


Little Reasons why Big Things happen

by MissKiraBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blind Date, Depression, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Goyle has a restaurant, Happy Ending, Idea of Life, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Romance, Slow Dancing, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 22:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKiraBlue/pseuds/MissKiraBlue
Summary: Harry lives every day knowing it could be his last.Draco lives every day hoping it could be his first.On the day when Harry decides to kill himself, one of his friends tells him about the site 'Cherubim' where you can find your perfect match.On the day when Draco decides to live his life to the fullest, one of his friends tells him about the site 'Cherubim' where you can find your perfect match.They both run at first.But when it's happening for the third time, maybe fate wants to tell them something.





	Little Reasons why Big Things happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crypto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypto/gifts).



> Hello, my adorable–evils!! I've been waiting to post this!! I am so excited what you'll think of it!! 
> 
> First, this is for Crypto, my beta. I love you so much and you give me strength and confidence and I am proud of you. So proud, you are the best. I know you already read it and said this was one of the best presents you've ever gotten but I still think this is still so little in exchange for the things you're helping me with. I love you and I'm glad you liked it.
> 
> Second: This fic was inspired by a Tumblr prompt by synonym–for–life. A lot of people written it but a lot of times, it turned out to be a lot more happy and cracky. I wanted to do something – more. Something much more. 
> 
> Also, 'How I met your Mother' also inspired this fic a little. It's a wonderful show, check it out, fellas. Also, 'Running on Air' by eleventy7 inspired it too. Check it out, it is a masterpiece.
> 
> This is for all of you too. Hope never dies entirely!

**Little Reasons why Big Things happen**

  
  


_ “There  _

_ are a _

_ lot of Little _

_ Reasons _

_ why the Big _

_ Things in our lives _

_ happen” _

– How I met your Mother 

  
  
  
  


**The Last Today**

  
  
  
  


“It has been sixty–two days, three hours, twenty minutes and three seconds since the war.”

 

Mrs. Rentman didn’t look surprised, she just leaned back in her chair with an elegant movement.

 

His mind healer wanted him to speak with honesty, so whenever she asked him to say something that has been in his mind, Harry’s always said this. The numbers changed – of course – but he’s always said this. 

 

It was the only thing that had been circling in his mind and he didn’t want to lie. There was no use in lying, really. 

 

“I know we’ve discussed this, Mr. Potter,” Mrs. Rentman said in a gentle voice, “but you can’t keep counting forever.”

 

Harry shut down his eyes calmly and leaned back in his chair. “The other methods that you’ve advised, are not working.”

 

She took a deep breath and tapped on the armchair. “They are not going to work immediately.” She looked at him gently. “I told you, Mr. Potter. This will take time... years even.”

 

Harry felt the despair choke his throat. It cornered him and anger started to fill up in him to the point he was afraid to open his eyes. His hands started to shake.

 

_ He won’t cry.  _

 

_ He promised to himself that he won’t.  _

 

“Well,” he started with a cold voice and stood up, already putting up his coat, “maybe we’ll never know.”

 

“Mr. Potter!” Her voice was sharp but steady. Harry ignored her and started to walk out of the room. “There will be time when you can’t run from this anymore.”

 

Harry only smiled bitterly, slammed the door behind him, and walked. He walked and walked, out of the building, into the raining streets, seeing the golden lamps shining on the sidewalks, feeling the cold wind caress him. 

 

“Well,” he whispered again, “maybe we’ll never know.”

  
  
  


**––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  
  


 

Harry always wondered what was his reason to be alive nowadays.

 

He had an old, empty, quiet, useless house because of a useless  _ dead  _ godfather. He received and will receive useless letters – about him being a hero, being the savior. Marriage proposals, endless ‘thank yous’ that he didn't ask for, that he didn’t want and didn’t  _ need.  _

 

He killed Voldemort because he would have been killed otherwise. Kill or be killed, that was the question. He didn’t do it because he wanted to save those people. He did it because he wanted to live. 

 

But now? Was it worth it?

 

He was alone every day, only meeting his mind healer on every Friday but what was the point? He was not healing, he was not making progress and he knew that as much as every person around him. Kingsley wrote him almost every week, begging to make him come back to the Aurors. Despite knowing the fact that Harry is not capable of that. Not now and maybe not ever.

 

He smiled bitterly. 

 

_ I’ll never know now.  _

 

Ron and Hermione were in France because of a very important case. The Ministry needed to send their best Curse workers. Ginny was touring across the globe as a famous Quidditch player with Luna. Hannah and Neville were on a honeymoon. 

 

Every one of his friends were moving on with their lives, effortlessly and quickly, smoothly and Harry was just–

 

stuck. 

 

He had been stuck for a very long time and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to move even one centimeter.

 

At first, he desperately wanted to heal. He desperately wanted to give life a last chance.

 

Harry talked with Molly and Arthur and the others but they were mourning and Harry always felt out of the place and uncomfortable so he never stayed there for long. He went to Hogwarts, talking to Professor McGonagall, but he never really felt at home. Not again. He could only see Voldemort’s face, Dumbledore’s death, those innocent people when they were getting killed, Remus and Tonks and–

 

every worthless year that he had spent there. 

 

There was no home for him. Anywhere at all. 

 

Harry had never done anything worthy after the war either. The things he had done weren’t much of worthy tasks to begin with. 

 

_ After all, anyone could kill.  _

 

He had a house elf who looked at him day after day. Maybe Kreacher was thinking about the same thing as Harry. Exactly how many days will it take until he ends it all?

 

He wanted it to be today. He really wanted it to be today. He couldn’t take one more day. The future bore down on him, empty of any vision but heavy all the same.

 

He couldn’t bear to continue this nothingness called his life. To fight with these thoughts day by day and night by night – not able to sleep or eat or drink – because these voices kept him awake and these pictures of memories made sure he can never let his body relax. 

 

He’d already written his last will and testament and also, letters to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. So it will be okay. This is fine. 

 

Harry walked in and out of the rooms in his house for the last time. He thought he’d feel something warm or some kind of nostalgia. But he’s never felt any kinds of warm feelings these days. 

 

Ever.

 

Usually, he felt nothing, or just felt heavy. Right now, he felt like he was on the end of a string. There’s something peaceful in absolution.

 

When he was done walking through, he went to the kitchen – where he left his wand – and grabbed it lightly, gently. 

 

This was the last time. The last time he would hold it. It felt distant in his hands.

 

And Harry was not afraid. He thought he might be, when the time came.

 

But he felt ⎼

 

grateful.

 

It was time to end it all.

 

He raised his wand, pointing it at his neck. He took a deep breath and then opened his mouth to say the curse–

 

When someone knocked on his door. 

 

Harry was frozen and he needed a couple of minutes to actually lower his wand. He took several more deep breaths and went to the door, opening it with shaking hands. When he did though, he was completely surprised. 

 

Brown dreadlocks. Beard. 

 

Walter Atkinson. Smiling as wide as always. His last Auror partner. 

 

Harry’s jaw almost touched his floor. 

 

“What the hell, Atkinson? It’s almost midnight, Merlin!”

 

Walter grabbed his shoulders enthusiastically. “But you won’t believe me what happened to me, man!” Harry could only gape at him but Walter really didn't care and he was already in Harry’s house. Harry looked at his ex-partner, then at the wide open door, then at him again and groaned with pointed frustration. 

 

He closed the door and walked to his kitchen, seeing Walter, who was taking out Harry’s wine with no shame.

 

“Why me? Why now?”

 

“You won’t believe me, my boy,” Atkinson was shaking his head with cheerful eyes. “I’m getting a date tomorrow with Emena!” Harry’s eyes widened. Walter noticed and nodded in agreement. “I know, right? Just with how long I’ve tried to get her, man–”

 

Harry stared at him flatly for all of three minutes, not listening, letting Walter’s waterfall of words wash over him. Then, he shook himself and pointed an accusing finger in Walter’s face, looking agitated. 

 

“I am so done with you, Atkinson!” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly at the strands. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? I am not doing this again– didn’t your lawyer say that if he sees you one more time in a court, he’ll strangle you–”

 

Walter’s eyes widened and he raised up his hands, all defensive. “I didn’t do anything illegal this time. I swear to my Grandpa,” he kissed his fingertips and then raised up to the ceiling. 

 

Harry froze, confused. “Then how in the bloody hell are you going out with Emena?”

 

Walter’s smile returned again. A sly one. 

 

“One word,” he said with excitement. “ _ Cherubim _ .”

 

Harry made a face. “That site still exists?” He shook his head in disbelief. “What is going on with this messed up world?”

 

Walter actually looked hurt and touched his chest with narrowed eyes. 

 

“That was harsh, man! That site is really good!” He said with a strong voice. “I didn’t believe it either but then I signed up and someone wrote back.” Atkinson closed his eyes and looked up – again – at the ceiling with a gentle smile. “It turned out to be Emena. My soon–to be–wife.”

 

“You wish.”

 

“You don’t appreciate love, son.”

 

“I am really not your son Walter.”

 

Walter looked at him with sad, puppy eyes. Despite being a forty– seven year old man.

 

“I know but it still hurts!” He waved around with big gestures. Harry was really not amused.

 

“Were you always this dramatic? Or is it just the early October winds?”

 

Walter shook his head and smiled. He grabbed the bottle of wine and took a sip of it. Harry waited for him to finish.

 

“You should try it out,” Atkinson said after he was done and walked by him, touching his shoulder. “If it isn’t worth it, you could always call me and complain about it. Even hit me in the face – I know you want to. Even Stephen wants to, but you can’t really blame him. I am literally cutting his years in half every time I call him to defend me in court.”

 

Harry gave out a sigh. “Why should I sign up? I can hit you anytime.”

 

Atkinson patted his shoulder and walked out of the kitchen. Harry heard his footsteps, as he was walking to the door. 

 

“Just give it a try,” he yelled back with a joyful voice. “Sometimes you just find things.”

 

And the door closed.

 

And Harry looked at his wand. Then at the closed door. He remembered what he had been doing, his intentions not even 5 minutes ago. He felt chills run down his spine, the coldness. 

 

Walter knocked on the door at that very moment. Just to tell him this. After so many weeks of not seeing him at all. Harry just couldn’t look away from the door. 

 

Was this a sign? Something?

 

From life?

 

Harry just couldn't look away from that door. He’d thought about fate and destiny before and he really didn’t believe in any of them. But he couldn’t shake off this feeling. He’d give one more day. One more day to himself. See if someone will write to him tomorrow.

 

But just tomorrow. 

 

Harry grabbed his wand – but this time it was not for the same purpose. This time he used it to call for the site called  _ Cherubim _ .

  
  
  


 

**The First Today**

  
  
  
  


“It’s two months, three days, four hours, ten minutes and twenty seconds until I fly to Paris.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, rich–boy,” said Goyle with a half–smile but Draco’s was as bright as the sun. “You’re driving away my customers with this speech.” 

 

Draco pouted, leaned back a little in his bar chair and looked around – seeing no one else but the two of them. There was a lot of light–bulbs on the walls, on the ceiling, making the whole place unearthly. Flowers on the tables, a space for the elegant and one other for the casual. 

 

Draco always liked this place. Not as much as Pansy – she goes here every time she can – but he loved it. 

 

“You’re closed,” Draco started, looking back at him. He was doing something at the other side of the counter, that Draco couldn’t see, writing something.

 

Goyle waved his hands at him. 

 

“That’s what you think,” he deadpanned, still not looking up, “but it’s all just an illusion.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes and then looked out of the big glass–walls. Seeing absolutely no one walking down the streets or just passing by. It was raining – Draco could hear it and see it. 

 

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He took a deep breath and listened. Hearing the little drops as they were hitting the streets. The scrape of Goyle’s quill against paper. Distant city sounds. He smiled gently. There was a time when he didn’t understand how much it meant to just stop and listen. 

 

To stop and really, really look.

 

“There you are again. With that face of yours,” he heard Goyle’s friendly voice full of smiles. 

 

“Every day may not be good,” Draco recited, “but there’s something good in every day. We just need to notice it,” he opened his eyes to look at his friend. “Don’t you think, Goyle?”

 

Goyle shrugged lazily and lifted an eyebrow up. 

 

“I say this, you should do what you want to do. You live your life the way you want and if you want to stop and take a bloody look then I say, go and do it. You deserve it, after all.”

 

Draco laughed, showing his dimples.

 

“That’s why you are my favorite, Goyle!” Draco said in a lively voice. “But do not tell Pansy! She’ll kill me.”

 

Goyle chuckled. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he stopped and then shook his head. “I don’t understand though, why aren’t you going out right now? You are always out there – showing up at parties where someone famous is. Or making friends with people even Blaise would call weird!” He touched his forehead in disbelief. “That guy has met a lot of people. And you know that.”

 

Draco looked at his half empty firewhisky. The light shone through the liquid drink, making it almost golden. “I’ve already gone to the majority of them... but I thought that I could go get a drink with Atk–”

 

“No!” Goyle looked at him, wide eyed and nervous. “That man has a very bad habit of breaking the law!”

 

“I know,” Draco sighed and shrugged, “but he’s a great man. You can’t deny that.”

 

Goyle narrowed his eyes at him and pressed his lips into a thin line.

 

He humphed at him,“No more free morning waffle for you!”

 

Draco lifted his eyebrows. “Nice try, Gregory. We both know you’re lying right now.”

 

Goyle narrowed his eyes. “Oh boy, you hope I am,” he said and then smiled. “Anyway, I suggest dating instead.”

 

Draco groaned and buried his face into his hands. “Like that would be a great idea.”

 

“It’d be the perfect idea!” Draco heard a cat yelp outside. “Get your woman– or man, you know I’m fine with it–, it’d be perfect. Trust me! You know I get these feelings and they are right–”

 

“Most of the–”

 

“Most of the time, yes, they are right,” finished Goyle and then stilled, looking at Draco like he was made of porcelain. “I know that it’s hard – especially for you – but it surely worth a shot. I mean, I’ll beat up the little shit if it’s a he and Pansy will beat up the little shit if it’s a she.” Draco laughed but Goyle looked absolutely serious. “You know how we are.”

 

Draco shut down his eyes and took a deep breath, smiling as he did. Feeling the air as it went into his lungs, filling it up, keeping him alive. 

 

“If you think it’d be a good idea,” he shrugged still not opening his eyes, “then why not?”

 

Draco was listening to Goyle as he was explaining the new site  _ Cherubim  _ he’d heard so much about, but in his mind, he was somewhere else. Draco thought about his days over and over again As he did this every end of the day.

 

Thinking about what he had done to make this day count.

  
  
  
  


**The Last Today**

  
  


 

 

Harry couldn’t believe that someone wrote to him this morning and that he now was in a restaurant, waiting for his date to arrive, everything felt so overwhelming.

 

For one, his question was very straightforward and he did not think that someone would actually answer it correctly:

 

_ ‘Anyone who’s interested message me by replying to this question: If you ever met a very famous person, what would you say to them?’ _

 

For two, the answer he got was not what he expected at all:

 

_ ‘I do know a famous person and he’s an asshole. So, I’d probably say ‘Hey, asshole.’ _

 

They agreed to meet at this place. Harry arrived a couple of minutes earlier than they planned but his hands were already fidgeting. He hadn’t gone out for a long time. Harry hadn’t shown his face in public since the war. And since he’s gotten out of his house – even as he was walking here at this place – and as he was sitting there at the table–

 

Every eye was on him. Constantly. He bet some of these people did not even blink. He felt them staring.

 

For some extent, he could understand. But that didn’t mean he was okay with it. He didn’t seek for attention, he did not want any of this.

 

He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. He had already cursed Walter this morning, so that was done but...

 

Maybe it was still too early for all of this.

 

_ “...You can’t keep counting forever...” _

 

Harry shut down his eyes and clenched his fists, opening and closing them. 

 

Yes, he can’t keep counting forever.  

 

But if he’s lucky,

 

_ I won’t have to. _

 

Because whoever would appear, that didn’t mean that Harry won’t do it today. There was no convincing him this time. Because he still could not sleep. He still choked and bathed in every person’s blood in his dreams.

 

He would do it today, after dinner maybe. His life was empty, there was nothing that could change it, there was nothing, no way that he–

 

“Hey, asshole.”

 

Harry froze and opened his eyes, turning his head into the voice’s direction. 

 

And he knew before he saw him. Because he knew that voice, because he knew that tone, because he knew him.  and there was no way–

 

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, out of breath. 

 

The man stood in front of him with elegance and confidence but his eyes screamed panic that Harry felt himself immediately after noticing it. 

 

“It’s reassuring to see that your eyes are still working well without glasses,” he said with a tight unimpressed smile. “So, what are you doing here?”

 

Harry blinked at him, not sure if he heard it right. He blinked again, not sure if this was even real. His breaths were shallow.

 

“Waiting for a date,” he whispered dryly, feeling the panic close his lungs when he saw that Malfoy understand. This was all too familiar and–

 

_ Are you satisfied? _

 

Every corpse, every last breath and dead eyes appeared in front of him–

 

_ You survived.  _

 

Harry flinched.

 

_ But Sirius, Remus, Tonks and a lot other people did not. And now you’re all alone. _

 

And before anyone could say anything, Harry stood up with shaking hands, and quickly walked out of the restaurant. Away from the watching eyes, away from all the faces that gave him tight smiles and warm handshakes for reasons that were cold murders.

 

For killing things that had beating hearts once.

  
  
  


**An Old Today**

  
  


 

Draco’s careful world that he’d been building up was torn apart in a single moment and he felt it in his soul. Healed scars torn open and bleeding once again.

 

Fucking goddamn Potter.

 

Again.

 

Waltzing into his life like it was nothing. How could he have not known? How could he not? Who else was famous and would use that site?

 

He was gripping his chair after having thrown vases and teacups until his knuckles were covered in blood. His hands were shaking as he slowly ran his fingers through his short blonde hair. He didn’t care if the blood messed it up.

 

It took Draco back.

 

To the days he didn’t think about, to the days that took a piece of him, day by day. To the days when he did not know what life meant. To the days when he did not know what it meant to take a deep breath and look around. And he knew that this was still a good day because he was still breathing and still walking freely, seeing the clouds on the sky, feeling the raindrops on his face. And tomorrow, he would still have a good day.

 

But now.

 

Now he also knew that this day made him go back to zero. 

 

It made him think of his old self who wasn’t who he is now. It made him feel all those thoughts again. And he hated it.

  
  
  


 

**–––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
  


“You look like shit.”

 

Draco stood at Goyle’s door, almost at midnight and the only thought on his mind was: _ I need proof that everything is fine, I need proof that everything is fine, I need proof that everything is fine, I need proof that everything is fine– _

 

He felt Goyle touch his arms, slowly pulling him into the house. “Draco, it’s alright, come here, everything’s fine, you’re fine, you’re here...”

 

Goyle was holding him with strong hands and helped him sit down at the kitchen. Draco was shaking and he felt cold – but not his skin was cold, his lungs – himself. He felt cold, empty, nothing, useless–

 

_ What?  _

 

Draco touched his head and closed his eyes in agony, covered his ears, wanted to make the sounds, the thoughts go away before–

 

_ You really thought that you could forget this? _

 

He heard the screams in his head, the shouts, the painful cries and it never finished, it never finished, it never finished–

 

He felt a soft blanket on his back and Goyle put down a mug of hot chocolate in front of him. Then, he sat down in front of him, at the other side of the table. Draco touched the mug, already feeling much more relaxed when he felt the warmth on his palms. He sometimes took a sip of it, enjoying the sweet drink, as it warmed up his body.

 

But Draco still heard it. They were quieter. But he still heard it. 

 

And it’s all because of him. 

 

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line. He took a deep, shaking breath when–

 

“I thought you were better,” Goyle’s voice was quiet and Draco’s heart  _ shattered. _

 

Draco touched his forehead and closed his eyes. He furrowed his brows and let out his breath.

 

“I’ve met Potter,” Draco muttered.

 

He heard Goyle’s chair creak. He probably just leaned back. 

 

“Potter, huh? He always got under your skin. It’s weird though,” Goyle whispered and Draco opened his eyes. “Nobody has seen him since he quit the Aurors.”

 

Draco lifted an eyebrow up, thinking deeply. He traveled a lot but still, while he was here, he hadn’t seen Potter walking around the streets. Hadn’t heard of him either.

 

Well,

 

Until now.

 

“Why?” He asked and then took a sip of his hot chocolate. Goyle did the same, looking thoughtful. Draco only now noticed his pajama. Little hamburgers danced on it. 

 

Draco smiled a little, starting to relax a bit.

 

“There are rumors. Someone in the restaurant always talks about him at least once a day,” Goyle waved with a frown. “A lot must be fake but there’s one that keeps coming back.”

 

“Which one?” Draco asked.

 

Goyle looked down at his mug and ran a hand through his bangs. Draco noticed the steadiness in his eyes. 

 

_ I wish I could be that calm. _

 

Draco swallowed and then touched his mug, warming his hands. He wasn’t cold yet but somehow he still sensed that one thing – he didn’t know what – what was still missing.

 

It left behind something frozen in his soul.

 

“They say he broke down a long time ago,” Goyle whispered, eyes darting down. “That he still hasn’t recovered.”

 

Draco remembered. Potter’s frightened eyes – he saw it. He ran.

 

_ Just like me. _

 

“Well,” Goyle shrugged with a bitter expression. “It’s not surprising.”

 

Draco blinked at him. “Why not?”

 

His friend drank his hot chocolate and smiled lightly, looking at Draco at the corner of his eye.

 

“Because the strongest hearts have the most scars.”

  
  
  


**The Last Today**

  
  
  


 

A week passed before it happened again. 

 

Harry did his daily routine all the same. Now, that Hermione and Ron were back, he planned to visit them every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Talking about jobs, their friends, and their future plans. 

 

Harry told them what he has planning to do in the future. But they never noticed how much he was lying along every sentence.

 

Maybe they always thought that he was okay. Maybe that was what they wanted to see and so that is what they saw.

 

He, of course, told them what happened with Malfoy. They were surprised and told Harry that Malfoy has been doing a lot of things lately. Harry didn’t care because they would probably never meet again.

 

He went to his mind healer every Friday all the same. He was sitting in the comfortable armchair and when Mrs. Rentman asked what was on his mind, Harry answered honestly, surprising himself. 

 

“I keep waiting for something to happen because I’m scared of killing myself.”

 

He regretted it the second it left his mouth because, until this point, he hasn’t said a single true thing to anyone.

 

But now he did. 

 

And he felt more exposed than ever.

 

Mrs. Rentman froze and looked up at him, wide–eyed. Surprised, but not because of what he had said but because he’d said it.

 

“What are you waiting to live for, Mr. Potter?” She asked quietly, gently, listening. 

 

Harry looked away and imagined the sun, the sky, the clouds, the stars–

 

It all looked monotonous. The same thing every day. There were days when all he could do was gaze at them, trying to enjoy the colors, the winds, the little glowing things on it.

 

He wished for past days with all his heart, when he could enjoy these things.

 

“I’m waiting for something to look forward to in life,” he said with a quiet smile that did not reach his eyes. “I have forgotten how to live, Mrs. Rentman, and that’s not what scares me. The thing that scares me, is that I don’t want to die but there’s no other way,” he stopped and shut down his eyes to surrender. He had been waiting for this day, that he finally broke down. He was still waiting for something to happen, but nothing did and Harry decided he will do it today. At the very last, he wanted to tell somebody. Somebody who couldn’t tell anybody because of an unbreakable vow. 

 

“I remember how it felt to smile – to really smile, with your heart, with your eyes. I really do. I remember how it felt to hug someone and squeeze them, to never want to let go of them, because you missed them, because you could feel their heartbeats – you could feel how much they loved you at that moment – how much they would love you during their whole life. I remember waking up in the morning, feeling the sun’s warmth on my face – that lightened my whole day. I remember the long, deep talks with my friends about life, the future – when I said the truth, when I meant it. I remember talking to strangers that I’d just met at the streets. Talking how was their day. I remember walking in rain, in snow, below the night sky. I remember looking at the stars, I remember love and freedom and hope and joy and wonder but also hate and fury, fear, loneliness but for those good days, it worth it,” he stopped and did not open his eyes. He took a breath in and only felt lead in his lungs. “Every bad day worth it because of those good moments, of those good days. But now, there are no good days. There are no good days.”

 

The silence started to devour him–

 

“There are no good moments. I do not feel these things and I don’t care about these things but I remember them, I remember how they felt and I want them back so  _ much _ ,” he whispered, without any power. His voice was brittle. “So I keep waiting, waiting for a feeling, for something that will give me back some of it – or just a little. I just only wish for a little thing. But it still hasn’t come and I can’t keep counting forever. Every day it’s getting worse and worse and worse and I don’t know what should I do because I don’t want to lose these things – these emotions, these opportunities, my friends – and I know they wouldn’t understand, they wouldn’t take me seriously – but it keeps getting harder and harder to wake up, to talk, to think, to walk and I don’t remember when was the last time I still could sleep. And despite all of this, I still want to try. I still want to wait. Just one more day, just one more day – I keep telling to myself because I am terrified as fuck, because I  _ know _ that at the end of the day I am still alone, and empty and nothing could change that and one day I won’t be strong enough to wait one more day.”

 

He finally said it. After a year he finally did. His skin was inside-out for her to see.

 

And when he opened his eyes he saw Mrs. Rentman’s torn expression. Because she knew he would do it. Because she knew that she can’t do anything. Not her. But Harry’s eyes were dry.

 

Because he knew that there was no use. 

 

Because he knew, that at the end of the day it won't matter.

  
  
  


 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
  


Harry picked up his wand again – when he heard an interesting sound. Like an arrow tearing up the sky.

 

It came out of his wand and he swished with it. 

 

_ Cherubim. _

 

He felt the chills ran down his spine again as he was reading the question:

 

_ ‘Must love quidditch and adventures.’ _

 

And before he knew it, he swished his wand again and started writing.

  
  
  


 

**The First Today**

 

  
  
  


Draco had no idea why he was listening to Goyle, when that man’s passion was all about making pancakes and soups. 

 

But Draco loved his friend and cherished him with all his heart so he tried  _ Cherubim  _ again. 

 

And somebody wrote to him immediately. 

 

Draco was waiting for him to arrive in the elegant bar of Goyle’s restaurant. He was staring at some of the strict looking waitresses. He looked at the weird blue flowers that were all over the place – did someone have a birthday? He looked at the colorful bottles of various alcohols and liquor, reflecting lights within the restaurant.

 

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Nothing makes sense nowadays.”

 

“Malfoy?”

 

Draco froze and everything stopped. Everything. 

 

Because he knew that voice, he knew that tone, he knew him and there was no way–

 

Because there was no way, no way, no way, no way–

 

He looked up and saw him. Again. Emerald–eyes, without glasses. Black, messy hair.

 

And Draco felt himself shatter to pieces.

 

_ Again. _

 

“No way,” he whispered, shook his head with wide eyes and stood up from his chair, taking stumbling steps backwards – he heard a lot of people whisper–

 

“Malfoy, wait–” Potter took a step forward and stretched out his hand.

 

Draco shook his head, recoiling. “No,” he said strongly, turned around and started to walk to the other direction. “Not today and certainly not now! I can’t– ”

 

“Malfoy, come ba–”

 

CRASH.

 

Draco turned around, hearing the sound, seeing a waiter and Potter on the ground with broken cups and plates. Draco touched his forehead in defeat. 

 

“For Salazar’s sake,” he groaned and looked up at the ceiling, trying to breathe the uncertainty out of himself. Of all the things that could have happened–

 

He heard an angry, Italian rant from the waiter, so he had to look back at the scene. Potter apologized, again and again, making Draco absolutely irritated. 

 

Then, Potter started to walk to him and Draco had to lift up his head in order to meet his emerald eyes. 

 

Draco remembered torture and screams and cries and–

 

He took a deep, quivering breath. 

 

“Are you okay?” Draco asked and felt his throat close up. It was hard to make a sentence.

 

It was like his old today.

 

Potter was looking at him weirdly – as always – but this time it was more curious than weird. 

 

“It’s been a long time since these kinds of things happened to me. It’s... interesting,” he said and then nodded at the door behind Draco. “Why did you stop? You almost reached the exit.”

 

It was hard to stay on his feet. Thoughts were circling in his head – his old thoughts, his old memories–

 

“I’m not as rude as you think,” he whispered because he couldn’t bear to say it louder. “Well, not anymore.”

 

There was that look again. “Are you still going to go? You really don’t think it’s weird that we are constantly running into each other?”

 

Draco’s eyes went round and he felt his pulse gave him a pause. 

 

He did think that and–

 

He was tired of running, his new self didn’t run – not anymore, not anymore– but  _ these voices these thoughts– _

 

Draco shook his head lightly, not looking at Potter. 

 

“I can’t do this,” he turned around not wanting those emerald eyes on himself. Not wanting to see his old memories and destroy his already shaky ground. “Not now. I can’t.”

 

And he was gone. 

  
  
  


 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  
  


 

He broke new vases and teacups in his house. And some bottles and jars. His whole being was shaking, his whole magic was unstable and pumped his blood till he couldn’t breathe–

 

He heard his door open and when he heard a pair of high–heels coming in, he didn’t move but tried to relax his body. Still gripping a chair with his bloody hands, afraid that if he were to let go he would break something else.

 

“Dray?” 

 

Draco didn’t look up but he felt a gentle hand on his shoulders. 

 

The silence stayed for a minute or two. Draco craved for comfort but the truth was, in these moments, he always felt too much and nothing at the same time.

 

It was his old confusing mind. 

 

A line appeared between his brows when he touched his forehead and shut down his eyes in pain. 

 

And Pansy knew. Just like she always did. Because she had those memories too. Not as bad as Draco’s, but still spine chilling. 

 

She pulled him gently into her arms and let him cry. And so Draco did. 

 

Because it was painful, because it was the ugly reality that he didn’t want to see, because if this is what would happen every time he sees someone or something that will remind him too much about his old self, he will never move on.

  
  
  


 

**––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  
  


 

Draco was sitting at the terrace with Blaise, who was smoking while watching as the city glowed with lights of gold.

 

Draco elbowed on the edge, hearing someone play cello on the street. It seemed a happy song with a fast paced tone. He heard the horse chariots, the little wind that danced through his hair and talking and footsteps. Lots of talking.

 

He tried to concentrate on the music though. The calming waves, those gentle sounds of the instrument, as it echoed through the street–

 

“You always have a little smile when you do this.”

 

Draco looked at Blaise with a half smile. “I’m just enjoying life while I can. Everything and everyone have something beautiful inside.”

 

Blaise’s expression softened and he ruffled Draco’s hair who only could smile. The cello started to get loud.

 

“I swear, Draco, you changed to a sweetheart. If I wouldn’t have a wife already, I’d marry you,” Draco burst out laughing and Blaise started grinning, throwing away his cigarette.

 

“I don’t want to disappoint you, but if Pansy would figure it out, I’m afraid I wouldn’t live long enough to make it to the church.”

 

Blaise sighed and started nodding, elbowing on the edge too, next to Draco. “Yeah, that’s what worries me too.”

 

“What is that I’m hearing?”

 

Both of them flinched at Pansy’s voice. They turned around, seeing her as she was holding two bowls of soups. Draco could smell the sugar and the sweet–

 

_ Tomato soup, with pasta letters and cheese. _

 

Blaise kissed her forehead and temple, snuggling his arms around her. Pansy kissed Blaise’s cheek with a big, affectionate smile – meanwhile, Blaise stole one of the bowls of soup, turned around and started eating.

 

Draco – who was holding back his laughter awhile now – had to let it out when Pansy hit his friend’s shoulder.

 

“Ouch!” Blaise hissed and glanced at Draco with wide eyes. “Do something! This woman beats me every day–”

“Blaise,” Pansy stared, holding out the other bowl of soup to Draco who accepted it and started eating. “I love you – I really do but if you say one more time that I’m beating you, I’ll institute divorce proceedings.”

 

Blaise smiled and said with a muffled voice. “I love you too.”

 

Draco shook his head with a smile and continued eating the delicious soup. Pansy looked at him and gave him a little smile.

 

“If you want to stay for the night,” she said with a kind tone. “You can, you know. This is a hard day, you should–”

 

Draco’s heart was filled with warmth and when he let out a deep breath and gave back the empty bowl to Pansy, he looked down at the streets, hearing the cello and said:

 

“There’s something good in every day, Pans,” he said quietly but with a strong voice. “I’m going to take a walk. See what does that cellist looks like.”

 

He looked up at the stars and saw their light and thought,

 

_ I can’t give up. _

 

“Draco,” Blaise whispered. “You are the bravest person I know.”

  
  
  
  


**Not The Last Today**

  
  


 

A week passed after that and Harry was a hundred percent sure that the sign he has been waiting for all this time is none other person than Draco Malfoy. 

 

That man has prevented his suicide. 

 

Twice.

 

And he was sure that they would meet again. After his second meeting with Malfoy, Harry saw things so differently, he was terrified to the core. He noticed, that nowadays he always looked forward to the next day.

 

What will happen today? Will I meet him? Will something happen? 

 

He became curious. And that had not happened in years.

 

He also noticed that nowadays, it was not so hard to wake up. Sleep was still not happening, but waking up was easy. And this made him a little bit lighter each day.

 

Harry talked with his friends about Malfoy the other day.

 

“Why does he keep running away, though? The first time, I understand, but now?” She asked like if it was the biggest mystery of all time.

 

“I know! Who would run away from Harry, indeed?” Ron smiled smugly. “People usually run  _ after _ him, right?” 

 

Harry threw a pillow at his laughing friend who choked and coughed violently. 

 

Hermione did not look up from her lap where she held her tea. 

 

“He said, ‘I can’t do this. Not now.’ I wonder what it might mean,” Harry said and then took a sip out of his hot chocolate, noticing the sudden silence.

 

His friends were smiling at him. 

 

“What?” Harry asked and Hermione and Ron grinned at each other. 

 

“It has been a long time since you wondered about anything, mate,” Ron said and looked at Hermione who nodded with warm eyes.

 

“You look better,” Hermione said benevolently. 

 

Harry’s heart sunk with something and he knew it had shown on his face because Hermione was on the edge of tears.

 

He opened his mouth to say something when–

 

“HARRY! MY MAN! WHERE YOU AT?”

 

Harry winced and every head turned into the door’s direction where the voice came from.

 

He heard loud footsteps and then he saw–

 

Walter.

 

Harry looked at him, not impressed and the ex–Auror–partner already started to open his mouth, wanting to say something but Harry was faster.

 

“Walter,” he started slowly. “We’ve talked about this. I am not your son and I don’t know how do you manage to get into my house when there’s a powerful spe–”

 

“Harry, my boy, you’re not gonna believe what happened!” Walter yelled with excitement and then suddenly noticed Hermione and Ron. “Oh, my– Ronald, my other son–”

 

Ron raised his hand but Walter attacked him with a big hug. “Actually, I am not your–”

 

Walter looked at Hermione, went to her and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. 

 

“And my darling daughter, how are we?” He said and Hermione laughed warmly. Walter kissed her forehead and then went back to where he was a couple of moments ago and put his hands on his waist, smiling at the three of them. 

 

Harry and the others were looking at him, waiting, but the black-skinned man did not move.

 

Still not happening and then–

 

“OH MERLIN, HARRY!” He yelled again touching Harry’s face and his shoulders and then shook him. “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!”

 

“Slow down–”

 

“I have this friend that I met at a very wild party with some llamas and Marvin from the neighborhood and stuff...”

 

“Llamas?” Ron spoke up in incomprehension. 

 

“... Anyway, I talked with him the whole night at the table and he is really smart and handsome and has a really interesting way to see life and now I met him again in a new restaurant and you need to meet him immediately or talk to him because – I dunno why – he’s single!”

 

Harry looked at him, utterly confused. “What’s his name?”

 

Walter actually looked in pain while he said, “I don’t remember. Every time he said it, my mind just couldn’t contain it. It’s a difficult name, that one.”

 

Harry felt something interesting again. 

 

_ You say, you are always waiting for something.  _

 

Maybe this was one too.

 

And Harry felt that maybe life gave him one more little reason.

 

“Are you sure about that, Walter Atkinson? Do you know what you’re doing right now?” Ron said, warningly. Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. What was this about?

 

Walter nodded confidently and then smiled at Ron when he said, “I’m breaking it.” 

 

Ron’s jaw fell on the floor. 

 

“You can’t be serious! We had a deal,” Ron said to him, Harry and Hermione watched their conversation like a tennis match, not understanding anything at all.

 

Walter nodded and touched his chest where his heart lied. 

 

“I am serious.”

 

Ron looked at him with interest. “Why?”

 

Walter looked at Harry and smiled. With a gentle smile, with a kind smile and Harry felt his long 

 

dead

 

heart 

 

beat 

 

 again.

 

“Because I’ve talked with him, once before, on that drunken party,” he whispered, smiling melancholy. “You know, there’s no way I would have met him if I hadn’t went to that party... and he said something that changed my perspective on a lot of things.”

 

Harry’s breath caught on his throat and he felt Hermione and Ron’s did too. 

 

“My Grandpa used to say, ‘People will forget what you said and what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.’ Harry, believe me when I say that man has changed my whole life with his speech in that party. He was the reason why I met all you and I will never forget what he said to me. It was simple but I’ve not thought about it that way.”

 

There was silence until–

 

“What did he say?” Hermione asked quietly, fearing if she would ruin this–

 

Walter didn’t look at anyone when he spoke up again. He rather looked forward, where no one stood. 

 

Maybe imagining that person he was talking about.

 

“He said ‘Don’t count the days, make the days count.”

 

And Harry felt chills run down his spine like electricity.

  
  
  


**–––––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  
  
  


Harry did not notice that he had been hoping that this person would be Malfoy until Malfoy actually had shown up at the big, beautiful park with an ‘I can’t believe this shit’ face.

 

“Not again,” Malfoy said in a blasé and a frustrated tone. Harry was amused. 

 

“Hello to you too, lovely,” Harry said in a very intense tone that caught even  _ him _ off guard, let alone Malfoy.

 

But for only just one moment before–

 

“Hey, asshole,” he replied and Harry gave out a half smile that made him pause. 

 

When was the last time he actually

 

smiled?

 

“Will you run away again?” Harry asked him earnestly because he was really scared. He didn’t want Malfoy to run. He was curious what would happen if he stayed.

 

He saw on Malfoy’s face the inner battle. Stay or go? But in the end he–

 

“I can’t run forever,” he whispered and Harry visibly flinched at that. 

 

_ “... You can’t keep counting forever...” _

 

“Besides,” continued Malfoy, bringing Harry back to here and now. “I’m sure we would meet again if I run away. It’s becoming rather annoying if you ask me.”

 

Harry half–smiled again and slipped his hands into his long coat’s pocket. 

 

“The option is not off the table, yes,” he said and started walking towards the blond haired man. Malfoy looked up at him and Harry tilted his head down a bit and held his stormy eyes. “I didn’t know that you’ve met Walter.”

 

“I didn’t know that you knew Walter,” Malfoy said quietly, still not moving his gaze. 

 

“Looks like the man’s everywhere,” Harry said lightly not looking away either. 

 

Harry waited for him and watched as Malfoy flicked his blond hair away from his forehead with a quick swipe of his fingers. It fanned back over his brow. 

 

“Why are you so calm about this?” Malfoy asked and Harry’s smile suddenly died down. 

 

_ Because you are the only reason I am still alive and my only reason for not ending it all. _

 

“Why aren’t  _ you _ calm about this?” Harry asked back, looking at him earnestly. “It happened so many times that we must be destined. It’s how  _ Cherubim  _ works.”

 

Malfoy smirked and started to walk in front of Harry who followed him immediately. They said it will rain but Harry could only see dark clouds and feel a little wind right now.

 

“Why were you on that site in the first place?” Malfoy asked and Harry stole a gaze on the corner of his eyes.

 

“Walter,” he said and Malfoy snorted. “You?”

 

The blond–haired man sighed aloud. “Goyle,” he said with a little smile and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “Ever since he has a restaurant he can’t mind his own business.”

 

Harry looked away from that smile and looked up at the clouds, trying if he could see it differently with blondie here.

 

“I didn’t know Goyle wanted a restaurant,” Harry said with interest. “I didn’t imagine anything for him, to be honest.”

 

Malfoy chuckled and shook his head. “Believe me, Potter, no one did,” he stopped for a minute. “But then he showed what he was made of and chased his dreams until he caught up with them. I’m proud of that bastard.”

 

Harry smiled lightly and it pierced his weak, broken soul. It was so good to breathe and smile again – truly doing so. 

 

“Not anyone can chase their dreams,” Harry said quietly thinking about his case. His last case. Where he got such a disgusting flashback he couldn’t talk the rest of the week. 

 

He quit after that. But Kingsley always came back. 

 

Always–

 

“I really don’t understand those people. We only have one life. Just one. Why aren’t we running like we are on fire towards our wildest dreams?”

 

Harry stopped in his tracks. 

 

_ “...has a really interesting way of seeing life...” _

 

It was hard to believe that sentence came from Malfoy’s mouth. Maybe it didn’t, maybe Harry misheard it.

 

But then why was his soul on fire?

 

Harry clenched his fists inside his pockets and tried to make his heartbeat go slower.

 

“You changed,” Harry said in a voice he hasn’t heard from himself before. 

 

Malfoy stopped too and turned his head back, staring at Harry’s eyes with the most intense look he had ever seen on a person.

 

“I didn’t change,” he said and gave Harry a dazzling smile. “I just found myself.”

 

And looking back now, maybe that was the first time when Harry’s soul began to heal.

  
  
  


 

**The First Today**

 

  
  
  


Draco almost had a panic attack when he first saw Potter in that park. After some minutes he had gotten better and now he was talking and walking with Potter easily. 

 

And

 

Draco almost had a not-so-true panic attack when he began to realize that he liked it. Also liked to talk with him, for the matter.

 

They talked about their friends at first. 

 

Draco told stories how Pansy and Blaise got married – even mentioned how the priest fainted and was almost kidnapped by Theodore Nott who was on Hawaii at the moment. He told how Goyle had won his restaurant in an auction – how Draco needed to bid as well to not make themselves suspicious. 

 

Potter laughed so loudly by Draco’s impersonation of Goyle when the man shouted ‘sold’ that even Draco laughed after that. After all, Goyle did say that, ‘I guess I can  _ kiss _ heaven goodbye because it’s a _ sin _ to be  _ this _ badass.’

 

They smiled the whole time – Draco couldn’t remember when was the last time he had smiled so much in one go. 

 

Then Potter told stories about Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom and Draco could only gape. Talk about twists. Potter said both Hannah and Longbottom wanted to marry the other after dating one year, but Longbottom was so afraid and stressed out that when they were at the restaurant – before he could’ve done anything – Hannah pulled out the velvet box of her jacket and proposed to Longbottom. 

 

And that was the first time Potter made him laugh so much his tears came out. Potter, himself, laughed too and told Draco that when Neville called him late at midnight, Harry thought it had been an emergency of sorts but then Neville started talking and Potter laughed so hard he thought he was going to die and called Granger and Weasley so they could throw a little party for them on the same day.

 

Potter talked about Ginny and Luna’s tour and how they bickered almost about everything just like an old married couple. 

 

It reminded Draco of them at Hogwarts. And his mind wandered back to  _ Cherubim. _ Of all of their meetings.

 

Draco also noticed, that after some minute, he was only looking at Potter’s smile and his twinkling eyes more than listening to what he was actually saying. He had a weird feeling – hearing Potter’s laugh and seeing his smile –, that maybe he hasn’t done these things for some time now.

 

Draco closed his eyes and let himself to hear Potter’s voice as he was telling him how he and Walter Atkinson met – who he has to talk with because of this betrayal. He was not mad about that though. Not anymore.

 

He noticed that Potter sometimes stopped and looked up at the clouds. The lights that surrounded them. At the grass, the orange, brown leaves of the trees. 

 

He stopped to look around. To really look around. 

 

Just like Draco. 

 

He also noticed Potter’s gentle smile each time and each time it made his heart beat in his throat. 

  
  
  


 

**Not The Last Today**

 

  
  
  


Harry and Malfoy were at Goyle’s restaurant – who gave Harry the biggest hug he has ever received –, having dinner, when it happened.

 

“So, what about your job? I heard you became an Auror.”

 

Harry tried not to flinch – failed miserably and looked away from Malfoy. 

 

“I’m not working at the moment,” he said in a bitter voice. 

 

He waited for Malfoy to go away, to push it, to–

 

He felt that Malfoy carefully lifted Harry’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Harry slowly looked at him, seeing his grey eyes on his emeralds.

 

“Good,” he whispered and kissed them again. “You deserve a break.”

 

No one told him that.

 

No one.

 

He was sure he turned crimson and when Draco smiled cheekily, pulling his hand away gently, he knew for a hundred percent, that he did.

 

“And what are _ you _ doing?” Harry asked him after he pulled himself together and took a sip out of his water. “I heard you show up at a lot of places. Fly to a lot of places as well.”

 

Draco shrugged and continued eating his pancake. 

 

“The whole world still thinks of me as a Death Eater. My life can’t be changed for the better, so I travel,” he said and Harry was petrified. Draco, however, did not realize or did not care at all. “One of the happiest moments in life is when you find the courage to let go of what you can’t change. I let go my old self, those thoughts, that I had during the war, during his reign. I think differently now,” he paused and looked at Harry, waiting for him to respond. 

 

But he couldn’t even move for a moment. 

 

“How can you do this? Just close him – all of that – out of your mind?” Harry asked grimly. “Don’t you get–”

 

“Flashbacks?” Draco did not even bat an eye. “Not anymore,” he stopped again, looking uncomfortable. “But some things triggers them.”

 

Harry remembered, clear as day.

 

_ “... I can’t do this. Not now. I can’t...” _

 

“I had one too.”

 

He saw Draco flinch. 

 

“When I met you, I mean, the first time. That’s why I ran,” Harry said and took a deep breath. “But I constantly have them. I can’t even sleep. I go to a mind healer on every Friday.”

 

It felt like there was no one else on earth but the two of them. 

 

“I start each day with a grateful heart,” Draco said, quieter. “That’s how I’m doing it.”

 

Harry felt his heartbeat stop for what felt like an eternity.

 

“Grateful? How?” His voice was nothing but a whisper. 

 

Draco held his gaze and did not blink.

 

“Grateful of being alive. Of being able to feel the air, the sun, the wind. To walk, to live, to eat and drink and breathe. I talk to strangers – in parties, at the streets, across the globe, because I want to know what their idea is about life.”

 

Harry imagined that. Seeing how Draco’s smile would lighten up someone’s day. Seeing how his perspective was so easy but so breathtaking at the same time. 

 

And he felt a gentle flutter touch his soul.

 

Harry held his breath and asked:

 

“What is yours?”

 

Draco closed his eyes and said:

 

“Every day may not be good but there is something good in every day,” he said it with a gorgeous smile and striking eyes and Harry felt his dead heart come alive. “I also want every each day to count. After all, we do have only one life.”

 

Harry saw his monotonous life begin to bloom into colours.

 

And looking back, maybe that was the moment when he stopped counting the days.

  
  


 

**The First Today**

 

  
  
  


They went to a bar where everybody danced when the clock was striking nine. 

 

It was an open one where you could see the stars if you looked up at the ceiling. People stared at them but that didn’t continue long. When the slow violins and cellos started to make an unearthly sound that made Draco close his eyes – because he wanted to feel it everywhere in his body, in his mind – Harry asked him to dance. 

 

And Draco said yes.

 

Harry gently, pulled him closer by his waist and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Draco’s. They began to dance, slowly, calmly.

 

And Draco’s heart wanted to explode.

 

Then, a grand piano spoke up – like a wing of a bird, tearing up the sky. Blue light shone on everyone – the light of the stars, the golden bright of the lamps – and Draco slowly, reached out and touched Harry’s cheek.

 

Like a slow wind, like a fading sun.

 

Looking into his emerald eyes, feeling as their nose touched, Draco closed his eyes at the rush of heat up his spine, creeping around his throat, up the base of his skull.

 

“You made me braver,” Draco whispered. “Thank you.”

 

“What do you mean?” He asked, breath ghosting over Draco’s face.

 

Draco opened his eyes and just stared, when Harry’s gaze turned into that emotion that he wore every time Draco was talking.

 

It made Draco feel inevitable.

 

“After this, I’m sure, I’ll feel better.”

 

Harry did not say anything but the breathtaking smile told everything that Draco wanted to know.

 

They danced and Harry held him strongly, safely and for the first time in his life,

 

Draco felt that he didn’t need to run anymore.

  
  
  


 

**Today**

  
  
  


 

Harry enjoyed music again. 

 

He felt it in his veins, in his soul, when they were dancing. He enjoyed eating and drinking and laughing and having fun and being able to talk. He enjoyed walking with Draco, in rain, in wind and later below the sun.

 

And when he looked at the stars, he noticed that tomorrow he wanted to try again.

 

And after that, and after that, and after that–

 

He was staring at Draco’s eyes and smile when they were out, in the garden, looking at the stars, drinking wine next to each other, shoulders touching.

 

And then Draco asked him.

 

“What is your idea about life?”

 

_ You. _

 

He looked down at his wine and said in a bitter voice:

 

“I don’t think ‘living’ would be a very good fitting word to use in my life.”

 

Silence fell on them when–

 

“What do you mean?” Draco asked slowly and Harry’s eyes darkened.

 

He didn’t want to talk about this because he would have a breakdown and he was doing so good today.

 

So instead of doing that, Harry turned to Draco and stepped towards him.

 

He put down the glass of wine – Draco’s as well, who looked at him with wonder and interest and it made Harry’s heart beat quicker. He noticed that Draco’s hair was out of place over one ear, sticking out. He gently fixed it, making Draco’s breath falter for a moment.

 

“You are the only reason I want to have a tomorrow.”

 

There.

 

He said it. 

 

Draco’s eyes widened and Harry touched his hand and intertwined their fingers. He began again and looked at Draco as if he was his whole world.

 

“The only one who can make me smile and I missed that feeling  _ so much – _ and when I look at you and hear your voice and listen to your ideas – it does things to my heart and sets fire on my soul and I think somewhere along the day I fell in love with you.”

 

Harry slowly bent down and kissed Draco on the cheek and then moved to his forehead, pressing a little, gentle kiss there as well.

 

When he wanted to move back, Draco’s hand were sliding into his black hair, pulling him closer. Their noses bumped and their lips brushed. His hands clenched and unclenched in Harry’s hair as he caressed his face with his lips and breath and Harry’s heart moved forward, begging to be close to Draco’s.

 

“Ever since the beginning, you looked at me like I was somebody. Not a horrible person, just somebody,” Draco whispered into Harry’s mouth. “You are somebody who makes everybody feel like a somebody and I am  _ so grateful _ and you make me laugh and you smile at me with your heart and you talk about adventures and people and sadness and joy and you look at the stars, the sun, the rain the way I do and I think somewhere along the way I fell in love with you too.”

 

Harry leaned forward and kissed him.

 

It felt Harry’s life and world finally made sense. It was leading up to this point. It was sweet and he smelled the wine on Draco – who kissed back and made Harry dizzy with feelings and fire – and he pulled his bottom lip and sometimes stopped to give small series of kisses and Harry’s heart wasn’t dead anymore.

  
  
  


 

**––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
  
  


At Grimmauld Place, after Harry felt Draco on his skin, explored him with his mouth and felt him with his heart. they were in each other’s arms on the big, comfortable bed, lying. 

 

Draco sat on his lap and Harry’s arms came around Draco’s naked torso, holding him close. Draco hugged him around his neck and then bent down to rest his cheek against Harry’s who turned towards him and kissed Draco’s cheek. He nosed at Harry’s cheek and pressed several little, heart stopping kisses to Harry’s neck, collarbone, and shoulders and Harry thought, ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with Draco Malfoy.’

  
  
  


 

**The First Today**

  
  
  


 

Draco thought this was the day he was waiting for during his whole life.

 

Harry was lovely with him, careful and gentle and murmured a lot of ‘I love yous’ like if his life was depended on it and it made Draco extremely happy so much he didn’t even want to hide it. 

 

But he didn’t forget Harry’s sorrowful eyes when he asked about his opinion about life. And when Draco started to search for a pair of socks – because his feet were freezing – he found something.

 

A paper. And Draco started to read.

  
  
  


**Today**

 

  
  
  


Harry saw when he woke up what was in Draco’s hand. 

 

And everything froze at that moment.

 

Harry couldn’t even move, still drowsy with sleep, just clench the blanket with all his strength. 

 

“Harry,” Draco spoke up and pointed at the paper, looking in his eyes. “Is this what I think it is?”

 

Harry felt something choke him.

 

“Draco, I can explain–”

 

“Is this you -?”, his voice died before he could force the words out.

 

Harry’s heart froze and he closed his eyes in pain.

 

“How long were you planning this?” Draco’s voice was haunting and Harry wanted to cover his ears. “How long?”

  
  
  


 

**An Old Today**

 

  
  
  


Draco felt his whole world crashing upon him and when Harry said the next words, he winced so hard his body was actually in pain afterwards:

 

“I wanted to kill myself every day.”

 

Draco felt something stab his soul.

 

“There had been a lot of times when I’d been interrupted,” Harry continued and Draco shut down his eyes.

 

How could he not notice the signs?

 

The way Harry looked around, the way his eyes saddened, how they talked about flashbacks–

 

The war. 

 

He wanted to do it because of the same reasons Draco wanted to do it years ago. 

 

“Do your friends know?” Draco asked and opened his eyes, waiting for the response, already knowing what will be.

 

“No,” Harry answered and Draco pressed his lips into a thin line.

 

_ You are just like me. _

 

“You said ‘wanted’,” Draco continued slowly. “You don’t want to do it anymore?”

 

Harry opened his eyes. 

 

“After our second meeting, I couldn’t. And now, the idea didn’t even cross my mind.”

 

Draco’s breath stopped when he remembered.

 

_ “...You are the only reason I want to have a tomorrow...” _

 

Draco felt tears in his eyes and squeezed them shut.

 

“It will be better, Harry,” he whispered and saw Harry’s emerald eyes break for a minute.

 

“It wasn’t easy. It was–”

 

“Choking. Devastating. Too much. Nothing. I know,” Draco said quietly and stared at Harry’s note. “When he lived at The Manor, the only sound I heard every day were screams and yells and whimpers and I was in a very small place with no lights and I knew if I went out there I’d be tortured but I was scared and I didn't want to feel any pain but I also didn’t want to hear them and...” 

 

Draco closed his eyes. “I forgot the sound of laughter, the look of a smile. I forgot the feel of the sun, the wind, the light. I forgot how the sky looked like, forgot how  _ I _ looked like, how to walk. I wanted to die. Every day. But I couldn’t do it because I remembered how those things used to make me feel. I remembered the feelings and I was holding onto them with every strength that I had left. But I am better now, because I’m grateful for every day that I can get and I know that you,” he ripped the paper apart, “won’t need this.”

  
  
  


 

**Today**

  
  
  


_ You are just like me. _

 

Harry’s heart ached for his love and it must have shown on his face because Draco gave him a sad smile.

 

“You have to think through this, Harry. Alone. Without me. I can’t be your only reason to live,” Draco said and started to dress and Harry felt the panic devour him. He stood up and caught Draco’s hand, but he gently pulled away. “We can talk after you thought it through.”

 

Harry whispered, “There’s nothing to think about.”

 

Draco – fully dressed by now – gave Harry a chaste kiss on the lips and then pressed one on the hollow of his throat.

 

“It is and you know it,” Draco murmured. “I want you to have something to look forward to in life.”

 

_ “...I’m waiting for something to look forward to in life...” _

 

Harry said not a long ago to his mind healer.

 

His heart warmed up his being and he touched Draco’s cheek.

 

“Since meeting you I actually began wishing for more time. I want more time with you. Not waiting for more but wanting more,” he murmured back and noticed his tears in his eyes. It mirrored Draco’s and Harry caressed his cheek. “I already have something.”

 

Draco looked at him for the last time on that day. Harry could hear his breath falter, but his voice was firm.

 

“You need to have more,” and stepped away from him, walking out of the door, of his house.

 

  
  
  


 

**The Last Today**

  
  
  
  


 

“Are you sad because he walked away?” asked Mrs. Rentman.

 

Harry felt calm and he knew this was another new feeling. He’s never felt calm in here since he started to attend. But now, it didn’t seem too hard to talk.

 

“I feel lonely,” Harry said with honesty. “But in another way. It’s still a bad feeling but not that... hole that I had.”

 

Mrs. Rentman smiled at him gently. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. “I feel better, that much is true. I don’t have this constant state where I–”

 

“Feel you’re waiting to the end of the day?” asked Mrs. Rentman, still gentle eyes, gentle smile. 

 

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered.

 

Mrs. Rentman leaned back in her chair.

 

“What are you feeling, Mr. Potter?” She asked and Harry felt a tinge of surprise. She said it like an old friend. Not a mind healer.

 

And suddenly Harry’s heart beat again. With feelings. Nowadays it only beat with those.

 

“I’m starting to enjoy the little things in a day. Like the sun was shining today – or it rained today. This tea that I drank was spectacular, my friend told me a funny story, how many stars I saw on the sky,” Harry closed his eyes. “Little things, mostly.”

 

“Do you see him in everything?” Mrs. Rentman asked and Harry did not open his eyes, but a gentle smile appeared on his face because the mention of Draco.

 

“Not in everything, but in a lot of things, yes,” he whispered. “He could always crawl beneath my skin. He knows me.”

 

The silence filled them and Harry never felt so peaceful when–

 

“Are you counting the days, Mr. Potter?”

 

Harry smiled softly and opened his eyes, seeing his mind healer’s pride and at the bottom of his heart he said:

 

“I stopped counting a long time ago.”

 

And when Harry walked home in that evening, he noticed a young, lonely cellist in the streets, playing something breathtaking. He remembered Draco. He remembered his love’s little habits.

 

So when the cellist finished the song, Harry straightened his spine, started walking towards him, and asked the stranger how his day was.

 

  
  
  


**Tomorrow**

 

 

 

Three days passed until Harry was better.

 

But he understood what Draco meant by thinking through. 

 

Harry noticed how much beautiful life can be if he were to really look around.

 

He looked forward to talk to his friends and try new foods and drinks, new things and visit Goyle who always gossiped with him but never said a word about Draco but he didn’t have to.

 

It happened after one week.

 

Harry was sitting in a restaurant at a table with Walter who was talking about his four other brothers. Harry almost recoiled when he heard that Walter will need to go to three weddings during the same week.

 

Talking about busy days.

 

Walter then smiled so widely that Harry lost track of everything. He didn’t even finish his speech.

 

“Hey, asshole.”

 

It must have been fate when everything stopped and Harry thought he could do anything.

 

So he stood up, turned around, saw Draco’s breathtaking eyes and hugged him by the waist and pressed a big kiss on his cheek. 

 

“Hello to you too, lovely.”

  
  
  


 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
  
  


After a lot of todays and tomorrows, Harry watched, with a smile on his face, as Draco made his way down the aisle. His heart was bursting with happiness. Draco, after what seemed like an eternity finally reached him, with warmth shining in his eyes. He leaned towards Harry and whispered:

 

“Hey, asshole.”

 

And Harry answered:

 

“Hello to you too, lovely.”

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  


 

Harry was staring at Walter with one arm around Draco’s shoulder, waiting for his best man speech. Harry saw Pansy and Blaise’s big smiles, Hermione’s eyes, full of tears. Ron, who raised his glass to them a lot of times. Ginny and Luna’s big grins, and Neville and Hannah’s as well. Harry saw Theodore Nott who looked as pleased as a human can be and Goyle, who was bursting into tears every moment. 

 

And then Walter started talking.

 

“I want to tell you a funny story of how I made a bet with Ronald Weasley,” Harry gave a curious look and Draco laughed aloud, touching his mouth. “You see, our boy, Harry,” Harry smiled. “Met Draco Malfoy a lot of times and I didn’t know who that person was – didn’t know how he looked like - cause I’m from Minnesota, you see - but I accepted the bet with my other boy, Ron, nonetheless. He said Harry will meet a lot of times with Draco and eventually will fall in love with him,” Harry and Draco looked at Ron, surprised. Ron just waved a hand at them but smiled all the same. “I said Harry will meet him once again and they will not fall in love. Everything went smoothly, but then I met with the man who I talked with on a party and I immediately wanted them to meet. So I called off the bet.”

 

Harry remembered.

 

_ “...I’m breaking it...”  _ Walter said a couple of months ago.

 

“Why?” Walter smiled when he looked at the two of them. “Because I knew that he will be head over heels for this stranger who talked about life with a burning wisdom and passion,” Walter looked around and shrugged lazily, grinning at Ron who was grinning back. “Who knew that Draco Malfoy and that stranger were the same person and it was all a coincidence?”

 

The whole room laughed but Harry felt chills.

 

Walter raised his glass with everyone else in the room. 

 

“Welcome to the family, Draco, my boy,” he said warmly and then laughed. “To Draco and Harry. To them, because they showed us that fate is still working fine. Because they make the days count!”

 

“Because they make the days count!” Echoed the voices and when Harry looked at everyone, looked at the love of his life, when Draco met his gaze, Harry whispered:

 

“Funny how sometimes you just find things,” he said and when he saw Draco’s smile he knew this had to happen.  

 

That every little reason caused every big thing to happen that has been leading up to this moment.

 

And Harry knew, that he and Draco will have thousands of todays and tomorrows. 

  
  
  
  
  


 

** THE END **

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Love all of you and tell me what you thought about it! Also, the soundtrack for the story is available on YouTube. I made it.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLidpfJz9AVaXcDsJIkThFDgY-QAGqpuX
> 
> Lots of hugs and kisses!


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